


Dangan Ronpa: Republica Romana

by Gozufucker



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Fangan Ronpa, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-13 14:27:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10515603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gozufucker/pseuds/Gozufucker
Summary: Sixteen members of a secret organization situated in Rome. One tiny man calling himself "Mononculus", half whole, half skinless...The year? 1890. This is the story of the Republica Romana and their descent into a bizarre sort of despair, guided by mystical arts.CURRENT: PROLOGUESURVIVORS: 16/16





	1. Prologue (pt.1): When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do

July 14th, 1890

It was surprisingly cold this morning, despite the usually warm and relaxing atmosphere that Rome just oozed. The ancient city of wonders, though now in the shade and not as great as it used to be, had possessed a climate that relaxed the muscles and promised it's inhabitants a better tomorrow. Perhaps that was simply the idealism that today's culture and inhabitants promised, yet that had not bitten into Angelina. The woman, at first sleeping away the early hours of the morning, was almost rudely awakened by the sudden noise of a pigeon slamming against the window to her room. With lazy motions the woman rose awake, yawning as she stared out.

The sun was shining brightly, and the morning cold was being banished back to the cold north where it came from. Or, so the inner poet in her spoke. The most likely image was that it'd get colder later again, when the wind began to blow at full force. That was the inner cynic in her speaking. Other voices rose as she did too, trailing herself over to the closet to lazily thrown on some form of clothing. While the usually at least somewhat aware and energetic Angelina bothered to choose her fashion, today was a day when she didn't even bother to think. All the garbs the Republica had provided her with were the same old disgusting purple-ish crap anyways, there was no harm in choosing whatever she wished at random.

The usual morning routines followed. Defecating, washing your face and body to some extent, the works anyone would go through during a cold morning where they just couldn't care enough, until the final trial of the day followed. Angelina dragged herself to the front of the mirror, staring deeply at the woman that in turn bore her eyes right through Angelina's skull. Yep. That's her, Angelina Angeloi. The one the Republica claimed to be the last true heiress to the Eastern Roman Empire. Or Byzantium... Or simply Rome. She had grown tired of memorizing all the possible ways to refer to the empire in Istanbul, so she had chosen to change the sentence for it at random. Not like she cared. As long as the Republica kept pampering her.

**ANGELINA ANGELOI - LAST HEIRESS TO THE EASTERN ROMAN EMPIRE - WRITER BY PROFESSION**

With a few strokes of her hair, the young woman slid out of her room, carefully closing the door. The Republica's private manor, located somewhere near the middle of Rome, near Vatican, was a spacious area. She was quite sure three whole aristocratic families could live within this space if they wished to, yet there was nothing of the sort here. There was /one/ aristocratic family, but the Giovios were not a large family. Simply a patron and a heir... Well, that'd become clear if she happened to encounter him today. Somehow, deep inside, she was almost hoping that she wouldn't. Her journey down the hall felt like a journey through death row, mostly because the inhabitants were all-

"Hey, hey!"

Angelina felt as if she could deflate right then and there, to crumble up into a collection of bits and bobs, to be swept away. This person was the last one she wished to see right from the morning. Not because she was bad, and not because she was horrible... But because she was-

"Angelina Angeloi! Stop, stop!

Annoying.

**ANJA "SCHUSTER" BERLIN - ORPHAN FROM BERLIN - SHOEMAKER BY PROFESSION**

"Anja."

Angelina's dry voice crawled out from her throat like death, an unexpected and unwanted visitor that made it clear that the young woman was not whom she wanted to meet today, not right now. She needed to get something to drink first, perhaps a rare blend of coffee, or something spicy to eat, something that could energize her for all of these "unique" people within the tiny major. Why did the Republica have to recruit people like this?

"Howdy! Slept well? I was just gonna come by your room and make sure ya were awake, since there's gonna be breakfast at the table later, and apparently Giovio had something important to say!"

The tanned german spoke in such a pace Angelina had no hope of keeping up, instead sighing dejectedly and simply nodding. Whatever it would take to move on before she was consumed by the other's needless energy. If she had that much energy, she could go and work on making everyone shoes or something. That's why she was here, right? Unless Giovio liked the idea of muscular women working under him, but that kind of cynicism wasn't needed right now, needless she would begin to question her own place within this society.

"Hello. Decently. I'm going."

The questions were answered quickly enough, and without another word Angelina took her leave back down the hallway, leaving the energetic Anja to her own devices for now, although the tanned woman didn't seem to mind, as she made her way down the hall to check out on the other inhabitants of the manor. She was a good girl. That was the idealist back within Angelina's head... She was a good girl. Just a bit too annoying for her morning tastes.

A more pleasant sight came to her eyes as she found the first stairway. Someone who wouldn't be as annoying to talk to, partially because they almost never talked... And not just to her, but to anyone in the general vicinity. The person she was just about to pass on the staircase, even seeing them disappear from the corner of her eye...

"Angeloi."

The gentle voice, oiled with an accent from the far east, broke the silence Angelina had so much enjoyed and cherished just now, although the break was much gentler then that of Anja's loud posturing and hollering. It could even be considered pleasant by some, and with every encounter Angelina was drifting to the camp of those who enjoyed the sound of it.

**ZENG LAN - A MYSTERIOUS WOMAN FROM THE FAR EAST - NO SPECIFIC PROFESSION**

"Zeng Lan."

Angelina answered with a curt nod and a look over her shoulder. The chinese born woman gave her a long, almost haunting look before smiling and bowing her head. "I'll be going to get something from my room... Please, tell mister Giovio that I'll be right there, if I don't make it in time."

The woman was full of mystery, although Angelina was sure that was the intent. Zeng Lan was the only chinese person she had seen in her whole life, and even then she was (at least according to herself) only half chinese, her father a british navy officer of some kind. Even those details had to be pried from others and not from Lang herself, who preferred to keep her distance to most. She was a sort of town celebrity by now, most of Rome knowing her at least by name, possibly due to her ghostly beauty, or due to the interest in solving the "Zeng Lan Mystery", as many had dubbed it. Even her membership within the Republica was questioned due to her origins, yet Giovio insisted.

"... Will do."

With a nod and a smile the two women separated their ways, as Angelina descent led her onto the second floor. The manor's structure was near idiotic with it's placement of stairs, the stairs to the first floor being at the other end of the second floor. Her steps led her on as she pondered upon her meeting with Zeng Lan, although she'd soon be forced to skid into a halt as a cane was lifted from behind another corner, the owner of it becoming clear as the monk took a few casual steps out from the shadow.

**BROTHER PIERRE - MONK FROM THE VATICAN - DOUBLE AGENT FOR THE REPUBLIC**

The monk always made her somewhat uncomfortable, perhaps due to the fact that she knew of his true role. To any outsider, Pierre would be an ordinary french monk, dime a dozen within Rome's sprawling streets, yet to her he was a cunning and greedy man, originally sent to observe the Republica for the pope's own interests, only to be then bought out by Giovio to act as a double agent for the Republica. She had no idea why the old leader of the Republica wished to involve himself with the politics of God, yet she was not in a position to question, despite her position within the order... Or due to it.

"Young Angelina," the man smiled sweetly and placed his cane down. He didn't even need it, the bastard, but he enjoyed presenting the image of being holier than what he was in reality. "Good morning."

"Good morning, brother." 

Her reply was as cold as the air outside was, causing the monks smile to die down just a little. Angelina's dry tongue and occasional coldness was known to everyone within the order, yet Pierre always tried his best to leave a positive expression. Every time he was denied the pleasure, he simply continued smiling, nodding soon after.

"I'm sure Anja already mentioned it," his voice trailed off as he thought about the german, "but we're expected to gather to dine together, and to listen to something from grandmaster Giovio. I wonder what he wishes to tell us today..." An amused snort.

"I'll be going, then." Angelina spoke before Pierre could continue his words, disappearing behind the corner, leaving the monk to his own devices. He always made her feel... Uncomfortable. Like he'd be telling the Pope about her doings if she even said the wrong thing. Not that that'd stop her, it simply made her uncomfortable.

The rest of the second floor was peaceful, although her trip would once more grind to a halt on the first floor, encountering an "argument" (or a lover's quarrel, with how it sounded) between two women. Did fate just hate her today, or was some cruel force forcing her to meet everyone before the dinner? That'd be absurd, wouldn't it. And awfully convenient.

"No."

"C'mon, Lisa!"

"No, Isotta."

"Liiiisssaaaaaaaaaaaaa."

"No."

**LISA GHERARDINI - RENAISSANCE WOMAN - PAINTER, SCULPTOR, ETC**

**ISOTTA DA VINCI - RENAISSANCE WOMAN (SHE WISHES) - ASPIRING PAINTER**

Gherardini and da Vinci. Two women named after Mona Lisa and Leonardo da Vinci in turn. Their stories were at least somewhat amusing; it seemed as if the Republica was fascinated with collecting possible descendants of great men and women like monsters for a little game. Gherardini was the raw talent of the duo; a woman who had mastered the art of sculpting, painting, and many fields of science such as mathematics at a young age. Yet, she'd never managed to break through in the Italian community, having to fall upon the Republica's hand of support to live. Yet, she never seemed all too bitter about the fact. Perhaps that coolness is what supported her in her aspirations for science and art.

da Vinci was not much better, despite her even more recognizable name. While her roots could truly be traced close to the original master from the Italian renaissance, her talents in painting required some training. But, she was in a very similar boat with Gherardini when it came to her motivations; she too believed she could reach her zenith within the protection of the Republica, ensuring that she'd become a household name like her forefather before her. And, perhaps, she could even fulfill destiny once more. After all, Mona Lisa had inspired Leonardo.

"Liiiiisssssssssaaaaa... Just half a hour, pleaaassseee?" da Vinci whined and stomped on the spot a few times, boot hitting against the marble flooring of the mansion.

Lisa sighed and lifted a hand to rest her chin on, the palm rubbing up to her cheek as she thought about the matter, eyes closed. Yet, the painter kept her cool, eyes soon opening.

"I suppose half a hour would be fine... But, no more. Grandmaster Giovio has something to say to us."

Isotta grinned and grabbed her fellow artist by hand, dragging her past Angelina and up the stairs, presumably to the room dedicated to arts such as painting and sculpting. Angelina sighed with relief and hunched over for a second. The two hadn't noticed her in their hurry, or they simply didn't wish to spend time with her right now. Made sense.

The dining hall was just a few doors away... She could already feel the sense of relief. Perhaps, these unnecessary meetings would be done for today. Giovio could announce his business, they would eat, and perhaps, just perhaps, she could go and take a nap before assuming her daily duties of writing a few pages of absolute nothing and then wailing of her literary doom.

"Angeloi!"

A fierce voice filled with enough energy to make Angelina wish for death filled the air just as her hand laid on the handle to the dining hall door. She didn't even need to turn around to know who waited for her, although his companion was surprising in many different ways. She had never seen the brown haired man with him, and his complexion was different to most of Italian stock. A foreigner? Possible, the Giovios often got visitors from foreign countries, if only to pay some form of lip service to the secret society. 

**VITTORIO GIOVIO - ROMAN HISTORY ENTHUSIAST - HEIR TO THE REPUBLICA ROMANA**

Vittorio Giovio, the son of Vittorio Giovio senior. The naming often confused visitors, although their personalities couldn't be any different. Old Giovio was often a distant man, yet gentle and fair in his judgement, dedicated to the old Roman ideals from the time of the first emperors. He was a good leader... Although, Angelina's vision of him might be blurred by the constant monetary support he provided upon her and the other members of the society. Sometimes, it felt as if the old Giovio's coffers were endless...

Yet, Vittorio was not very much like his father. An enthusiastic and loud spirit dedicated far more the Republican ideals, or at least what he perceived them to be, Vittorio is a man who could annoy anyone to death. Or at least Angelina. And his history factoids... Well, they weren't very factual. The man was absolutely horrible at his field of passion, often remembering dates wrong, exchanging names, so on. The only good thing about his factoids were that their falsities often silenced the group. And, she supposes, he had quite the easy-to-distinguish voice. He'd be a good orator, with some training.

"There you are! Good morning, first of all!"

Before Angelina could reply, Vittorio dragged their visitor by arm, causing him to grunt.

"This man was found sneaking on the property's backside! Please, go and gather the others from the yard and then come to the dining hall! I shall handle this visitor myself! Just as Caesar handled Brutus, hahahaha!"

Angelina groaned on the inside, but simply nodded her head and swirled a strand of hair around her finger. "I suppose I can't refuse."

Before Vittorio could answer with his "wit," Angelina had already turned to go, although she passed one last glance at the man that was being held by Vittorio.

**MATTI KORHONEN - ??? - ???**

She had never seen him around here before. The man had to be of foreign descent... Blonde hair, blue eyes. Your typical northerner, had to be from Germany at the very least, probably from Sweden or Russia. He looked a little bit intoxicated... Or, well. Little bit was downplaying it, he looked smash-up drunk. But, Angelina didn't let that bother her for too long as she turned for the main door, quickly heading for the mansions yard.

While the Giovio manor was already huge by most standards, the yard was even more so, surrounded by large walls that blocked out the noise of the city surprisingly well. It was a quiet day in general, although that might be because of how early it was. In a few more hours the city would be bustling with the sounds of life, of merchants coming out to open shop, of children playing along the streets, perhaps daily sermons. The usual. But for now, Angelina's attention was turned to finding the remaining eight people she needed to gather. 

The first one came to sight almost instantly, thankfully. The girl was squatting near the largest tree on the yard, staring down at the grass with an intent gaze, the light shining off of her glasses. Angelina snorted and walked up behind her, trying to distinguish if the girl had found anything interesting upon the ground. Her eyes barely managed to spot a small toad that had camouflaged itself, squatting down next to the girl.

**LOTTIE O'LOTS - IRISH APPRENTICE - HERPETOLOGIST-IN-TRAINING**

"See anything, Lottie?"

Angelina had already seen the toad, and was sure Lottie had seen it too, but the girl was one of the few people here who she found enjoyment in from the get-go. A pure, somewhat eccentric girl from Ireland with an interest in lizards, toads... So on. The elder Giovio had found her during a business trip, and asking her father for permission to come study her field in Rome wasn't all too difficult with some money thrown into the mix. While poorly educated, this girl had a raw talent for her field that only a few people could possess. If that talent was just refined a little, Lottie could change the world of biology once she grew up a little.

"Yikes--"

The squatting girl almost jumped from her spot, reeling back and falling on her butt instead, groaning and rubbing her forehead, swiping some red locks away from blocking her glasses. So, she'd been skipping her barber's appointment, huh? Anja would have to deal with that soon. It felt like that girl could do almost anything when she put her mind to it.

"Angelina! It's good t'seeya! G'morning! I was just looking at tha' toad there, yeah? You see it, right? I think it's a bombina pachypus, although I'm not too sure yet... Them latin names are always s'confusing, yeah? I gotta take a look at one of the new books grandmaster Giovio got me, I'll be right back!"

She had already bounced up with the energy of a professional, charging back inside the manor.

"Ah! Lottie! There's a meeting at the dining hall!"

Angelina barely managed to shout out to the girl before she disappeared inside, causing her to sigh. But it wasn't as tired as it was with the others. Lottie's the type of energy that she can tolerate. With a huff and a swipe of her legs she rises up to stand, looking around. Ah, there's two more near the gate. Angelina quickly makes her way over, arms folded behind her back. Maybe her good luck was growing! The people outside happened to be the types she could enjoy and tolerate the company of, at least to some extent.

A tall, tanned man of middle-eastern stock and a shorter, slightly chubbier man of greek origin, chatting away about... Well, she had heard the mention of clams before they took note of her, so possibly the dinner that was going to be served today.

"Angeloi."

**SALADIN - EGYPTIAN SCHOLAR - CALLIGRAPHER**

Saladin bowed his head in acknowledgement of Angelina, a small smile tugging to his lips to meet Angelina's. She had always enjoys the egyptians company. While Saladin was not his real name, it was what he insisted the others call him, for convenience. She never understood the exact point, but she had come to respect the man's wishes. He was a capable one, his works of calligraphy beautiful and easy on the eye. Many of the walls of the manor had been decorated with his handiwork, a beautiful find by Giovio the elder during a visit to Egypt. 

And calligraphy was not all he could do. Saladin also prided himself as a man of the sciences, although he never specified himself further, besides the need for a laboratory within the Giovio property. His wishes had been fulfilled as a reward for his hard work. And he was a good conversational partner, to top off the metaphorical cake. 

"Angelina!"

**BASIL DOUKAS - GREEK GENTLEMAN - NO OCCUPATION**

Doukas was another enjoyable face within the Republica, and the rare inhabitant of the mansion who had not been picked up by grandmaster Giovio personally. Instead, he was a man of rich greek heritage. While not particularly talented in any field, he had instead simply funded his own membership within the organization... Not that that made him any lesser of a man! A jolly face within the group always did well, and Angelina was sure Doukas was the one person no-one in the order could dislike. His topics were always entertaining, his shoulder always free to be leaned on, his eyes and ears always ready. A man of good composition, she could safely say Doukas was a good man.

"Good morning, Doukas, Saladin."

Angelina smiled and nodded her head, lifting a hand to wave towards the door.

"Apparently grandmaster Giovio had something to say during dinner. It'd be nice to exchange pleasantries now, but I'm sure the old man would get mad if we kept him waiting."

Saladin and Doukas shared glances at each other before then nodding to Angelina, exchanging a few pleasant goodbyes before both heading inside. That's three, five more to go. Or four, knowing one of them.

The next lamb she needed to guide was found further away from the gate, enjoying the shade under a smaller tree than the one Lottie had been squatting under. If she had to present a well-educated guess, he'd chosen it to not annoy Lottie. The girl could spend hours staring at something, so moving in to interrupt her without good reason wouldn't be good. The man snored gently... He'd had to have been here for a while, then. A hour or two, she had to guess. Any more and it'd mean he came here during the wee hours of darkness, which would just seem suspicious.

She pulled her foot back and then gently kicked it against the side of the sleeping man, earning a tired grunt from him. She repeated the motion a few times without increasing the intensity, until a strong hand grabbed onto her foot just as it was about to collide with her side again.

"I'm awake, I'm awake..."

**JOSEPH HUNT - GUNSLINGER - RELATED TO THE GIOVIOS**

Joseph Hunt was not a common face around the manor grounds. Normally, he'd be somewhere in the USA, possibly on the frontier, handling... Cows. Or whatever he did. Angelina had never been curious about the new world, despite the promises of a golden future and whatnot. The promises America made were always so over-the-top and grandiose, when all she wanted to do was to live quietly and with the chance to write. Yet, in many ways, Joseph was just that, the American dream. A strong man, tall and thick as a trunk (both in body and mind) and with the ability to shoot on the level of a master marksman. Somewhat related to the Giovios, Hunt had been invited for a family visit just a week back.

Most of his time here had been spent lazing about, but it's not like she could blame him. That's what family visits were often about, at least with the Giovios.

"You didn't need to kick that hard, honey." 

Hunt grunted and rose up, dusting himself off. Some of the soil stuck to his ass, but she didn't notify him of the matter. His fault for sitting there for so long. 

"Knowing you, just shouting at you would've made you snore louder. Grandmaster Giovio has something he wanted to tell us. Journey on over to the dining hall, "pardner."

She imitated the stereotypical american to the best of her abilities before departing without a word, leaving Hunt to wake up by himself, looking over her shoulder to make sure that the hulk of an american made his way inside the manor. Once that was confirmed, she turned her attention to finding the rest of the people she had to gather. Just a few more, and she could finish this. She'd had enough socialization to last herself a lifetime by now. The cold morning air was starting to warm up, which she was at least thankful for. This summer had been such a strange one.

Her next victim(s) came in a pair. A tanned woman and a paler man, seemingly discussing something related to money. She could see why; both were somewhat involved in the local economy, although for different reasons. From what she listened, it went on as usual. One trying to convince the other into investing, only to be turned down in the most polite manner they could muster.

The paler man was the first one to notice her, grabbing the brim of his hat and lifting it up in a greeting.

"Angelina. Good morning."

**NORTON II - SON OF NORTON I - HEIR TO THE EMPIRE OF THE USA**

Norton. Or, Norton the second, as he liked to be called. She always simply referred to him as Norton, which had at first earned minor ire from him, only to then turn into a passive acknowledgement of her gut. Most people of the time knew about Norton I, the madman who had chosen to claim himself as the emperor of the new world. Yet, not many knew Norton II, possibly due to his very limited proof about his connection to Norton I. According to himself, he was the late emperor's bastard child, legitimized on his deathbed to take over the mantle of emperor after his father's passing. Yet no-one in California, or in the USA in general, had acknowledge his claim to the title. In fact, the love for Norton I was so great that Norton II's life was in danger while living in the USA, for he was seen as a hack, a simple pretender wishing to ride on the coattails of the late emperor. If not for Giovio the elder picking him up during a trip to the Americas, it's very possible that Norton II would be dead already.

The strangest part was that at least from what Angelina had observed, Norton was a sane man. No eccentricities or hints of potential insanity, leaving the claimant to a non-existent empire a total mystery. Why would someone of such a normal, even gentlemanly disposition go as far as to claim his lineage from a potential madman? She had never had the chance to question him on the matter, but maybe she would get the chance soon. His life would be interesting to write about, at least. That was a fact.

"Oh! Angeloi, good morning!"

**HASTI NALCI - TOBACCO EXPERT - BAZAARI FROM PERSIA**

Hasti was a... Case. A woman from Persia, from what Angelina understood. Her complexion and features matched the claim, so she took it as fact. The situation in Persia had been rather volatile, and the recent unrest related to tobacco had forced the merchant woman to pack her bags and to move to a more profitable market. Italy had originally just been a stop before heading over to the Americas, yet Giovio the elder's donations and honeyed words had made the merchant settle on Giovio's property instead, working for the Republica as a sort of economic advisor. 

The role fit her rather well, too. Hasti had a reputation all across Rome by now as a vicious businesswoman who could sell you your own shoes if you listened to her enough. Beneath the nice and sweet facade laid a businesswoman whose cunning and brutality (when it came to economics) knew no bounds. A good choice by Giovio, Angelina had to admit, but she felt as if Hasti was /too/ good at what she did.

"Hasti, Norton." Angelina nodded her head and waved the basic greeting to the both of them. "I'd love to chat more, but grandmaster Giovio needs to talk to us about something. Dining hall, go there."

By now, she was tired of the whole god damn dining hall, but the two understood and took their leave with basic goodbyes. That was that... Just a few more. She would never do an errand like this again, it was a rather frustrating experience, even if it was a short chore.

Thankfully, the second-to-last of her victims chose to find her instead of Angelina finding her, a hand suddenly landing on her shoulder. Angelina almost jumped, only to look over her shoulder. A wave of relief hit her. It was just her.

**JULIA GENEVE - HEIRESS TO THE WESTERN ROMAN EMPIRE - NO PROFESSION**

Geneve. While there was no exact love between the two, she was at least somewhat comfortable around the woman. The two shared a past, in a sense. Geneve had been picked up by the Republica in a manner very similar to how Angelina had been chosen. By her apparent ties to the Western Roman Empire of old that had fallen over a thousand years ago. Of course, this meant that Geneve's clam was much more muddled and unclear than hers, but she made for it in a drive and aura that truly gave off the impression that this woman could inherit Rome. 

Angelina had seen Geneve in action. A cunning woman of sleek tongue and of brutal administrative experience, some had whispered that Geneve would be the one to take over the leadership of the Republica once Giovio the elder passed. At least, he had given her much more attention and training than his son, yet that might've been because of her supposed roots. Angelina never bothered to question it. She knew that deep down, Geneve was here for the same reason she was. Because the Republica offered a cushy life based on only your supposed heritage.

"Do you know of the fact that there's a gathering at the dining hall? Grandmaster Giovio sent me to gather everyone, yet-"

Angelina laid her hand on top of Julias and removed it, dusting her shoulder off out of habit. 

"I do know. Vittorio sent me to gather everyone outside. You should head off... I'll find /that man/ and return in a flash."

Julia's face twisted. Beat by Vittorio? Angelina could see that the thought made Julia boil on the inside, but she just smiled politely and nodded, taking her leave to the manor's insides. With a sigh Angelina felt her muscles relax from the tension they had momentarily felt. Geneve was a woman she did not want to be on the bad side of, but she felt as if their supposed lineages would bring nothing but bad things. But, that was the cynic in her speaking.

She only spent a token effort trying to find the last person, giving up quickly. Mostly because she didn't want to find him. Her steps quickly carried her inside the manor, past a few doors, only to see that he was already inside, waiting in front of the dining hall door, his neat hat lifted just enough to show one eye, which had been aimed to stare directly at her. As if he was trying to be somewhat charming towards her, although she knew that his real intentions were only disgusting and slimy.

"Mademoiselle Angeloi... It's such a pleasure to meet you here. Miss Geneve already notified me of the dinner, but I chose to wait just for you. Seeing you today has already brightened my day."

**O.E. - SON OF AN ENGLISH EARL - WOMANIZER**

O.E. was someone Angelina didn't want to meet. An annoying upstart, the young man hailed from the Brits land. The son of some minor earl, his connections had bought him a spot within the Republica, although one could mistake his charm as the reason. Hailed as the "Baron of Love" from Italy to Ireland, this man had lovers all over his home country. But Angelina knew that there was nothing charming about O.E. There was nothing more she despised than a womanizer with no substance, and the cynic AND the idealist in her told her that that's all there was to this annoying little man.

"O.E. If you were listening to her at all instead of "appreciating her beauty," you'd know grandmaster Giovio would like to get this matter done sooner rather than later. Stop wasting our collective time."

"Such a cruel tongue... Yet, such a beautiful one all the same."

O.E. chuckled to himself and turned around, swinging the door open in a grandstanding manner that already made Angelina feel bored. Everyone else had already taken their seats on the long dinner table. Angelina and O.E. took their seats, unfortunately enough right next to each other. Angelina took note of the fact that the mysterious man from earlier, that northerner drunkard, was also present. Maybe Vittorio had chosen to deal with him after this event, so for now he was to be with the others. Her fingers began to drum against the oaken table almost instantly, waiting for the meeting to begin.

But, it didn't. Minutes passed. After about... Half a hour, the dining group began to grow a little restless. Usually the food would at least be brought in today, yet many had noticed that the usual staff was nowhere to be seen. Was the event so important grandmaster Giovio had chosen to dismiss all the staff for it? Silence reigned, and reigned, with uncomfortable stares going from person to person as they all silently tried to perceive if anyone knew where Giovio the elder was. Eventually, all stares ended on Vittorio, who was profoundly sweating by now.

"I- I'm sure father will come soon, he, ah, mentioned..."

A pause. Something could be heard. A saw? Something was sawing. All eyes turned to the source of the noise, as a saw suddenly stuck out from the middle of the table. It went in a neat circle until it was finished, causing a hole to pop up onto the table. Everyone leaned forwards out of instinct to stare at it, until a hand suddenly grabbed onto the ledge. Sickly pale, too... Until another hand followed, lacking of flesh.

And with that, the being suddenly yanked itself up, doing a quick spin in the air before landing to sit on the middle of the table. It was disgusting, a being of half normal human, half skinless corpse. Even some of it's organs were out for display, it's beating heart out for display for everyone. Yet, it didn't smell disgusting, and it wasn't bleeding. It looked like it was half alive, half dead. Screams echoed from a few of the attendants, while others were already rising to stand up.

"Nyuk nyuk nyuk... I love group gatherings like this!" It pointed a finger up to the ceiling, and to the chandelier, a sickly smirk appearing on it's half torn face.

"It's showtime! Mononculus appears!"

With those words began a sickly game of life and death, of joy and sorrow, of lies and truths. Angelina didn't know of the fact, nor did any of the other actors present, but this would be their first and last grand stand on the stage of despair.

Please, take your seats, gather your little foodstuffs, and prepare for maestro Mononculus to take the stage and lead you through this journey.

Enjoy from the bottom of your hearts! Kills, chills, thrills!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gozufucker? Doing a series?
> 
> Yeah, this is a passion project! I'll try and keep it alive, although I've got no idea on the frequency of updates. Designs, along with how FTEs will be done, should be up at some point. There will be some historical inaccuracies, but I hope they will not disturb the readers too much. The year 1890 has many meanings, which I hope will become clear as we go along. 
> 
> Talents are also not an exact part of this series, but most of the cast members have a profession they excel at. The cast do not have specific ages, but they're all within the late 10's or at most mid 20's. I'll specify if anyone wants to ask for specific ages.
> 
> Please, enjoy the tale of the sixteen republicans with all your heart!


	2. Prologue (pt.2): When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mysterious and disgusting Mononculus makes his appearance! The stage from which a great tragedy begins is set, and the actors are all informed of their roles.

"It's showtime! Mononculus appears!"

Those words broke the screams and the gasps of surprise that had come from the attendants. It spoke to them, and them in specific. No-one else was present, after all. That was a fair point, actually. No-one else but these sixteen people were present in the dining hall, although realistically some attendant should've appeared. While Anja was a staunch worker and could easily handle many roles within the manor, she couldn't be a servant to all. Giovio the elder employed maybe ten members of staff as a whole just to tend to the kitchen, yet now no-one was present now. Angelina thought back, and she hadn't even seen any servants around the manor or out at the yard.

"Monster!"

Angelina's eyes trailed over to the gruff voice that shouted out above even Mononculus and the horrified people present. The voice belonged to Hunt, of course. He'd have the lungs to be that loud, the gunslinger's trusty revolver lifted and pointed at the little man sitting on the table, the only sign of his nervousness being his free hand's thumb twitching irrationally. Every nervous atom in the man's body was focused into that thumb, to contain it all, face as cold as ice as he stared down Mononculus, finger laying on the trigger.

"I don't know what kinda bastard you are... But back home, we don't let people like you live for mighty long. You look to be in pain."

That twitching thumb is flicked a little, lone finger pointing at the beating heart engraved within Mononculus' chest, the organ small yet pumping. It was alive... Very alive, in fact. 

"Half dead already." 

Click.

"People of that disposition tend to be dead pretty quickly, and I'm all for cleaning off corpses from this property..."

Silence reigned for a little while, Mononculus tilting it's head to the side before lifting a hand to rest against it's cheek, that smile never wavering as it began to soundlessly laugh, stomach convulsing and jerking as it's mouth opened and closed, yet no words or sound came out. The only way to determine that it was laughing came from those jerking motions... Unless it was having a heart attack. But that couldn't be the case. Organ failure, maybe? Or maybe blood loss. It wasn't bleeding, but maybe it had lost blood before this? Why was it under the table?

Finally, some noise broke free from it's sickly mouth.

"Nyuk nyuk nyuk nyuk! You're a pretty funny guy, Hunt!"

The gunman reeled a little, the finger that had laid on the revolver's trigger falling limp, surprise overtaking him rather quickly.

"Surprised I know your name? Sorry, chum, but you aren't all that special! Nyuk nyuk nyuk! I know all of you pretty well! There's, uh, Zeng Dong over there..."

He snickered to himself and lifted the skinless hand to jerk a thumb towards Zeng Lan, whose usually calm face had managed to show some discomfort at the rather grotesque sigh of Mononculus, the comment only driving her to look even more bothered.

"And Vitttorio, and Lottie, and... You know, the list goes on! I could list all of your names, but that'd be long and boring. And we're not about long and boring here at the Republica, right? We're people of action! Or, should I say, people who like to think we're people of action."

A rough cough echoed from the end of the table.

"Don't use the term "we!"

Vittorio's voice blared out, fist slamming against the table. It clearly hurt the man, but he didn't show any sign of it as he continued to speak, face a little distraught, yet trying to keep some form of cool. The beads of sweat going down his forehead were a good indication of how he really felt about Mononculus' presence.

"You are not a part of this organization! Elements such as you should be removed from these grounds! I'll go and get-"

Mononculus rose up and wagged a finger, twirling on the spot for a second. It was actually pretty impressive, it could end up being a great ballet dancer or something. 

"Sorry, Vittoriot, but I am! Your papa... Poor old Vittorio the elder, just had to pass the duty of grandmaster to me before..."

Mononculus quiets down and seems almost sad, it's face twisting and turning into a horrible imitation of sadness, wiping some bloody tears that rolled down both of it's cheek, the paler side a little stained, only for the bloodstains to soon disappear. What was causing that? Was it's skin sucking up it's own blood? The speed at which it happened was incredibly, usually bloodstains could last very long depending on the situation.

"B-Before?"

The abject horror in Vittorios eyes became clear, spreading right onto his face. While him and his father were not all too similar in practice, the two still held a closed bond anyone in the manor could've observed in just a few days. Father and son connected by blood and spirit. The horror he was showing spread around the table, and even to Angelina, as her face twisted up into an expression of fear. The cynic in her was telling her something that would be confirmed by Mononculus. Before...

"He went and died! Nyuk nyuk nyuk! It was pretty tragic, you know?! He was just laying there on the floor of his office, all bloody and stuff, screaming about giving the last of his ripple to me! And then, just as I managed to save his brain, the ceiling fell on him! It was pretty gruesome, some material fine gentlemen and ladies (and random hobo) shouldn't have to see!" 

Mononculus shook it's hands in a horrified manner, it's expression matching that tone as the realization hit upon everyone in the room. If the little man's words were true, then...

"Grandmaster Giovio is... Dead?"

Lottie's peeping voice was the first one to speak up, sounding much like a small mouse would sound when caught by a mouse trap, living through it's final moments in short whimpers. Everyone else looked to her, and then to each other, no words being uttered. Grandmaster Giovio couldn't possibly be dead! The whole thought was absolute hogwash, totally ridiculous! The man still had at least twenty more years of life to his name, and twenty more years with them all! While their relationship with the man had always been mostly professional, grandmaster Giovio was like a father to a good portion of the members present. He'd brought them here to refine them, to protect them, and to introduce them to new ideals and a lifestyle.

"Exactumondo, my tiny underling! And he passed that job to me!"

Heavy pants and wheezes began to echo from the end of the table, all eyes slowly turning to examine the source. Vittorio's face had turned into a deep shade of red that almost reminded Angelina of the red tomatoes grown at a nearby farm. She'd oft go there to write, and... Her mind was trailing into a wrong place at an especially bad time, perhaps as a sort of protective measure.

"How quaint... How e-entertaining..."

The fist Vittorio had slammed against the table rose and slammed down yet again , the steaming and fuming young heir's ears blowing out a large amount of that same wheezing steam his mouth had been releasing moments prior. 

"BUT ABSOLUTELY INSANE! SUCH CRUEL JOKES HAVE NO PLACE HERE! REMOVE YOURSELF!"

Mononculus fell onto it's back in a comical fashion from the sheer intensity of Vittorio's shouting, pathetically swinging it's arms and legs around before flopping itself back up, arms dusting off it's bottom. 

"Sheesh, rough crowd... Be careful, now! I'm carrying some important merchandise!"

A hand rose up to scratch at it's exposed brain, that sickening grin returning to decorate it's already disgusting face.

"His brain, that's it! I couldn't take the... Ripple? The nipple? Whatever he was offering me, but I could take his brain! That's the thing I'm carrying on my pretty little head right now. Not that I needed it, but I think it's a little bit prettier than my old one. That one was all grey and small, but this one's red and big. I can already feel my brain getting all fired up from your statements, like-"

"Shut the hell up, bastard!"

Hunt's voice echoed once more as the gun was now firmly aimed at the back of Mononculus' turned head, the tiny man turning it's head to stare right into his eyes, the exposed eye blinking a few times... Which just ended up looking like winking instead, annoying Hunt even further.

"I don't care what kinda bullcrap you're gonna go 'bout spewing next, but I know I'm gonna take the straight way through and blow your damn brains off right the hell now, you bastar-"

Before Hunt could pull the trigger, a calm hand was placed onto the barrel, forcing it down with surprising force. Hunt grunted and looked to whoever had risen up to stand next to him, only to visibly reel back with a deflating noise.

The mysterious man that had been brought in by Vittorio had placed his hand on the gun, calm, yet slightly drunken looking eyes focusing on him and then to the little man, and then back to Hunt. As if he was trying to communicate to the american on what he thought of the situation purely with the whites of his eyes, but since that tactic clearly wasn't working out, he sighed and muttered, clearing some hair away from the front of his eyes.

"Let's assume..."

There was a slight accent. It was almost completely unnoticeable, but Angelina caught onto it rather quickly. The man sounded Northern, but not as strongly as a Swedish man would. She assumed so, at least. She had never met a person from those parts, so her guess was about as well educated as the typical seven year old child's could be.

"That this little thing's claims are true. What then? You'd be shooting at something that killed your "grandmaster." Do you want to try and annoy a power like that, without hearing it's reasoning and motives?"

While the voice was perhaps a little slurred, the man spoke a surprising amount of sense. Enough for Mononculus to lift it's two little hands together and to clap them together in an excited manner.

"Bravo, bravo! Good job, uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhh"

Mononculus pitter pattered across the table to where the man and Hunt were both standing, leaning forwards a little while scratching it's exposed brain.

"I don't think you're on the whitelist here, buddy. My mind's telling me there should be fifteen people here, and not sixteen. And you're the mad lad who doesn't fit the whole picture! Mind telling your newfound friends (and your new grandmaster) who the hell you are, eh?"

The man grumbled and reached into his shirt's pocket, causing all eyes to turn there for just a moment. Was he going to pull out a weapon? No, not a weapon. A flask, brought onto his lips as he took a few steady sips. Fantastic, the guy really was drunk. Once he was done with his swigs, he spoke up once more.

"Korhonen. Or, well. Matti Korhonen. Use whatever you'd wish. I'm not interested in correct spelling or names."

That sounded... Forced. But, if Angelina had to harness a guess as to why he was so straightforward with the matter, it was due to the fact that he was /afraid/ of Mononculus, just like the rest of them were. Her eyes trailed to Vittorio, who had fallen back into his seat, face resting against his arms. She truly felt bad for the man, but now was not the time to focus on him. Hunt had already moved to support his distant cousin all the same, so the matter was out of her hands.

"Hem, hem, Matti, alright. I'll be sure to add you to the Republica's membership roster free of charge once these petty introductions are out of the way. Man, this whole thing messed my mojo up so badly I forgot what I was going to say..."

Once more, that skinless hand reached up to scratch against the bare brain, although this time it's eyes ripped wide open.

"That's riight! I remember now. Gosh, when you're as old as I am, you just really tend to lose the track of time! I was going to give off a few announcements as the new grandmaster of the Republica Romana, that's all!"

Mononculus lifted it's skinless arm to the sky and then swung it down quickly, a scroll appearing seemingly out of thin air. There was a loud gasp from Isotta, although she was quickly silenced by Gherardini. No time to question some magic trick by the little man.

"Now, for the first order of business... As we all know," the little man took on the tone of Vittorio's deceased grandfather, earning the ireful stare of many. Saladin had almost taken his leave already, only to be gently pulled back down by Doukas. Leaving now would be a bad idea. ", the Republica Romana as an institution has existed for some time now! To borrow the previous grandmaster's description of the group: "A collective of like minded romantics who wished to study inwards to Italy's history, and to that of Rome, for the betterment of the present, and for the Roman values of old."

A little cough, to even out it's voice.

"What a doozy, and a boring descriptor to boot! You're all just people reaching out to the past due to some dissatisfaction with the present! We're going for an image change here. The brand we've got? Great, Republica Romana's a fantastic name. We're going to be changing what we're all about today. From now on, the main goal of the Republica Romana is to..."

Suddenly, it's teeth seemed to grow sharp, dangerously so, biting right into it's lower jaw and through it with a sickening crunch.

"Kill each other! Nyuk nyuk nyuk!"

The cheerful and totally unfitting laugh echoed through the hall, invading the absolute silence that proceeded, the attendants looking at each other with disbelief. Was the little man being serious? 

Angelina was the first and only person to speak out, voice unimpressed.

"Kill each other?"

"Thaaat's right!"

Mononculus' annoying voice chimed out.

"That's going to be the main goal of the Republica Romana from now! Killing each other! All sixteen of you are gonna go around and murder each other! Although, there's gonna be some rules! I'll call them... The Republica Edicts!"

Monohuman laid down and began to go through the scroll in a quiet monotone.

"Edict 1: Republicans can only spend their time in the designated area. Leaving that area will result in punishment! The designated area may grow in size.  
Edict 2: "Nighttime" is from 10 pm to 7 am. Some areas are off-limits at night, so please exercise caution.  
Edict 3: Sleeping anywhere other than your designated room will be seen as sleeping on duty and will be punished accordingly.  
Edict 4: With minimal restrictions, you are free to explore the designated area at your discretion.  
Edict 5: Violence against grandmaster Mononculus is forbidden, as is the destruction of peepholes.  
Edict 6: Anyone who kills a fellow republican and becomes "guilty" will ascend, unless they are discovered.  
Edict 7: After a murder has been committed, the surviving republicans must attend a hearing to determine who is "guilty."  
Edict 8: If the "guilty" person is not found, the rest of the republicans shall face execution. If the "guilty" party is found, they alone will be executed.  
Edict 9: Additional republican regulations may be added if necessary."

A loud breather echoed from Monculus, giving everyone some time to think. Most of the rules seemed clear, although a few questions bubbled within Angelina's mind. Such as how they were expected to believe in this ridiculous situation.

But, she was not the first one to speak up. Instead, it was the annoying man sitting next to her, the one she had come to loathe the most out of this whole group during her stay at the manor. O.E. spoke.

"And what's this designated area you've set up for us, then?"

Mononculus perked up and skimmed through to the first rule, before then nodding sagely to himself.

"Sharp eye there, O.E. my boy! The designated area is a very loose concept, but for now it's the manor, and only that! The outside is locked off. The door is barricaded, as are all the windows, if you'd like to step out and see? But only after this hearing is done!"

O.E. huffed and swiped some of his hair to the side, continuing to speak.

"Alright, then. I've got one last question... The second edict. What areas are off-limits during those hours?"

Mononculus went down a peg on the list.

"Huh! Well, since the area we're occupying changes constantly, the definition for closed-off areas will too. But, for now, that's simply this dining hall and the kitchen area located to it!"

Pleased with the answers he gained, O.E. nodded and quieted down. Angelina couldn't believe that he could just... Casually question this thing, as if he'd already accepted that this would be happening!

Saladin spoke up next.

"What are these "minimal restrictions" edict 4 speaks of...?"

This caused Mononculus to grin and wave it's hand dismissively.

"Nothing much, really! Just that you can't destroy anything while exploring. The items here are veerry expensive, and the only way you poor bastards could pay for it would be with your lives! Nyuk nyuk. It's good you asked, though, since that connects to the next edict! Those peepholes mentioned in the edict are going to be in every hallway and room possible, around the... Upper right of the space, or somewhere else if that's not available. I'll aaalllwaayys be watching, even if it seems like I'm not!"

The mere thought of Mononculus somehow being present everywhere at the same time confused her, but before Angelina could present that as a question, Anja spoke.

"There's a lot of edicts here, how're we gonna be able to memorize them all?!"

Nine was not a lot, but Mononculus seemed to be ready to address the matter.

"Simple, my dear brainless Anja. With these Scrying Stones!"

Mononculus stomped on the spot, causing sixteen slots to suddenly appear on the table surface. How had they not noticed those before? Perhaps a secret mechanism installed by the earlier grandmasters, or Mononculus himself. No matter. When one looked down into the slot they could see a somewhat large, perhaps a fist sized stone. They all picked theirs up in cue, inspecting them. They seemed normal, sans a single hole and some runes inscribed onto them.

"If you would, press the rune right in the center of the rock!"

Everyone pressed their finger against the rune, causing a sudden "bling" like noise to echo simultaneously from each stone, as the single hole then projected an image into the empty space in front of it. Most of them dropped their stones in surprise, the projection still looming despite the stone being dropped.

"What in the name of-"

Brother Pierre's aghast words were cut off by Mononculus.

"These are your Scrying Stones! They contain a lot of important information like profiles on all of you, all the edicts, and so on! I'd get veeerrry used to them, since they're going to be your best friends here! I mean, I'd at least trust a rock more than most people here, considering just how dangerous this environments gonna be."

Angelina slowly picked up the stone she had dropped in sheer surprise, staring at the projection it was creating. Slowly, she lifted up a finger to wave it about, only to discover that the projection changed depending where her finger was pressed. There seemed to be a "menu" system of sorts, from what she'd understood. How did this thing work? Something like this shouldn't exist by any sense of the word, but then again, neither should Mononculus... Just what was keeping them here?

"Now that that's over and done with, I think I'm going to go and settle in my new office. This was a good meeting! I think we've settled in on what our Republica should represent from now on, along with establishing rules and regulations for how that representation's going to be reached! With that, I bid you all... Adieu. Enjoy your new Republican Killing Life, everyone!"

And with those words, Mononculus rolled up the scroll it'd been holding, walking back over to the hole it'd sawed on the middle of the table. With a single hop it jumped down and disappeared. No-one saw it exit from under the table, yet it was gone. Maybe there was a secret passageway right under the hole they ere not aware of. Mononculus' strange disappearance was not their main worry anyhow.

Distrust was.

The sixteen republicans (sans Vittorio, who was still in a somewhat broken state) eyed each other up and down from their seats in the dining hall, silence ruling for a long time. So, they were supposed to kill each other for a chance to "ascend?" If she had to present an elaborate guess, ascending in this case meant release from this hell. The group's fragile bond had been broken, all sixteen republicans choosing to stand at the same time, dissipating all over the manor. Some stuck together, others went alone. The rest of the day was spent in relative isolation by everyone, thinking through their situation. Hunt and Saladin both confirmed that the windows were covered in pure steel, and that the door was barricaded. There was no way to exit.

The group was closed inside the manor, and with the changes Mononculus had made, who knows how the manor could've changed? Angelina's mind was ablaze with all these thoughts and theories as she spent the night away learning how to use her Scrying Stone.

She felt as if the stars themselves were watching her, despite there being no way to see them. 

And thus, the Republican Killing Life began.

**PROLOGUE: WHEN IN ROME, DO AS THE ROMANS DO - END**  
**SURVIVING REPUBLICANS: 16/16**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prologue continues! Hahah, don't expect this kind of update pace on the usual. I just had the time and felt like the prologue should be moved out of the way quickly. My aim is to get 1 update out per week, usually on the weekends. If anyone has any questions, I can answer them in the comments. If there are any theories or thoughts on the cast, share those too, and please...
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> edit: as of 10.4.2017, chapter 1 will be late! I'll try and get it up this week or the next.


End file.
